Erratum in the Spirit
by Falafal
Summary: REVISED...What does one do when a Saiyajin enemy doesn't come from the sky? When their power level is hidden in Shadow? Earth is not as innocent as they all thought. And when Trunks is lured into the ranks of an association of Death, will he turn against
1. Prolouge

Title: Erratum in the Spirit - Prologue  
Author: Falafal  
Pairing: N/A at this time  
Rating: PG-13  
Warning: Supernatural - Dark theme, Angst

**Notes**: DBGT has not occurred, due to the fact I know nothing about it.  
**Revised Notes**: Well after having let all my fanfiction sit in the depths of cyberspace untouched and gathering spam dust, My muses have finally kicked my butt into gear and here I am revising. Not too much revised, a scene or two will be added or a scene added too but nothing huge, spelling mistake, grammar, Crappy descriptions and sentences, dates, hair colours etc etc. Just the basic stuff…Enjoy!

"Speech" 'thoughts' …_Remembrance_…

* * *

Visions of Inspiration

_'Where once was light,  
__Now darkness falls,  
__Where once was love,  
__Love is no more' _Gollum's Song_ - Fran Walsh_

* * *

Shadows of darkness. Whispers of the dying. His heart drummed rapidly, mind twisted in fear. A sudden brush against his shoulder caused him to jump.

"Afraid?"

The raspy voice echoed through the darkness, he couldn't find its location. Its Ki seemed to radiate endlessly around him. Laughing at him, daring him to take a chance. As his heart thrummed against his ribs, his eyes flickered about him in hopes of glimpsing his opponent and the growing dread finally formed itself physically into salty drops on his forehead.

"Don't cower. It will all be over soon"

Out of the darkness an outline slowly formed. There was something alluring, knowledge that whom ever approached would never harm him but why did he think that. His mind hesitated in the belief, reverting to his familial state of trusting no one until he could see their eyes, and yet the belief stood firm and shattered his mistrust.

"They'd never harm me" he muttered without thought.

"Do you truly believe that?" That same voice scratched and echoed in reply

So close. Behind him, a second form. A soft hand trailed across his check, pulling back his hair and his body would not respond, didn't want to respond. He shivered as breath touched his neck and his eyes widened at its chill temperature.

"W-who are you.?" eyes searching "Where am I?"

The only response he received was the tight grip of a delicate hand on his shoulder, the piercing of his flesh under sharpened nails. The form before him slipped into the faint light, moonlight. But there was no moon in the sky, no stars. Hidden under the sanctuary of a black hood, the being's face was unseen, all but a glint of white. It stopped mere inches from his face, the sound of its breathing sharp,

"I have a gift for you"

That was it. The voice rang through his mind, it had an unnatural hypnotic effect. His body would not move, no matter how hard he tried he couldn't move from the pressing form behind him. Its body cool as the same soft hand gently pushed his head to the side. Its movements were sudden, unlike the previous manner. He tensed as a sharp pain struck his neck, life draining yet his strength gained.

* * *

When he woke, it was from dread. His torso sprang upright, heaving, sweltering. It had come once more, that mysterious dream, which should be called a nightmare. Yet in his father's mind, Saiya-jins never had nightmares, never allowed fear to overcome. And so when he spoke of these reoccurring dreams to the Saiya-jin Prince, Trunks received a hard glare of disapproval as well as a lengthened training session. Training solved everything, or so believed. He couldn't help but scoff at his first waking thought, the narrow minded convictions of his father. Pushing back the jumbled blankets, the 19-year-old let his legs slip over the edge of the bed. With the back of his hand he wiped the forming sweat, uselessly. He didn't understand these visions. They had appeared one night, always dark, always waking in dread. Yet beneath it all a feeling of loyalty and enticement had been formed. He could feel a mighty power luring him, calling him.

"What do you want?"

His voice echoed loudly through the silence, catching him by surprise. The bed then seemed swiftly uncomfortable, the window alluring. He slid up the glass panes and let the night air dance with his lilac locks. Leaning out, he watched the stars smile down upon West City, shining upon the Capsule Corp clock reading '2:05 am', he had been waking earlier each time.

…_"I have a gift for you"…_

Remembering his dream he became confused, what did it mean? Dende always said dreams had a hidden meaning. He just couldn't find the reason for these dark visions. These vision which held neither light nor love.


	2. You better pray your soul too keep!

Title: Erratum in the Spirit 1? - You better pray your soul too keep!  
Author: Falafal  
Pairing: N/A at this time  
Rating: PG-13  
Warning: Supernatural - Dark themes, alcohol references  
Archive: DBGT has not occurred, due to the fact I know nothing about it.

**Revised Notes**: Well after having let all my fanfiction sit in the depths of cyberspace untouched and gathering spam dust, My muses have finally kicked my butt into gear and here I am revising. Not too much revised, a scene or two will be added or a scene added too but nothing huge, spelling mistake, grammar, Crappy descriptions and sentences, dates, hair colours etc etc. Just the basic stuff…Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragonball Z and unfortunately neither do I own any of the works from which the quotes are taken.

Reveiw replies  
jdchs: Thankyou so much. I also find nightmares great to write about, as the character is unable to get away.  
Gozilla: You think it's interesting? Cool, thankyou!

"Speech" 'thoughts' …_Remembrance…  
_

* * *

Visions of Inspiration

"_I'm startin' to trip  
I'm losing my grip  
And I'm in this thing alone" _Losing Grip_ - Avril Lavigne_

_"The shadows that you see (in the places that you sleep)  
Are memories of me (you better pray your soul too keep)  
The truth behind your eyes (you know the things you never see)  
Your darkest little lies (I'm coming for you)" _Won't back down_ - Fuel  
_

* * *

Why?

One question that can never be answered. How I wish it could be. Then perhaps I could understand. Understand the reason for his deceit, his treachery. It's all I can do to hold the tears. Our friendship was lifelong, I would have died to save him. I didn't realise he would facilitate my demise.

* * *

"Back off Goten!"

Slipping further into the booth, the lilac haired teen duplicated his father's famous glare.

"You can't stay in there all night"

In reply, Trunks averted his eyes and swallowed the remainder of his drink, a strange red liquid that seemed to leap from the glass. Heavy music resounded with deafening vibration and so to be heard the two saiya-jins kept their voices raised.

"You're right..."

His grip on the glass tightened as he stood, moving towards his friend. Their eyes sober despite the alcohol swarming their system. The older teen couldn't decide whether the increased resistance, by way of saiya-jin blood, was favorable or not. He knew it certainly moved against his present aim.

"...My glass is empty"

Trunks moved past the discouraged 18-year-old, his face losing its glare and he threw down the remaining cards in his hands, ignoring Goten's flicker of grief at the winning hand.

"Oh, come on!"

Defeated, Goten slumped into the U-bend seating and gazed upon red and white playing cards, carefully unorganised. He had been trying to get his friend upon the dance floor all night, a particular blonde beauty had her eyes on him. Yet, Trunks would not approach her, in fact he seemed far from the subject and it was these times that he questioned the prince's preference, a flickering spark in Goten's mind at the thought. But shook his head and decided another cause…

…_All afternoon Trunks had his head in the clouds, a smile never appearing upon his face. Goten looked his friend in the eye, that characteristic grin slipping when he saw the look on his face. Something was bothering him, _

"I know something's wrong"

"Huh?"

"Trunks..."

Sighing, Trunks knew he couldn't hide a thing from Goten and he wouldn't try, they had been the closest of friends all their life, they had fused.

"It's just father on my case again"

"He's always on your case, why's today different?"

"Plus I saw, last night...never mind, it's stupid" spinning the lilac haired teen eagerly changed the subject "So you think you can beat me this time?"

Realising the limit of his interrogation, Goten grinned and turned into the Capsule Corps residence, "You're lucky your mum fixed the Gravity room, 'cause it's the only thing that'll protect you!"…

…Goten's mind slipped back into the present and in reflex he searched the room, identifying each Ki. Nothing out of the ordinary. Twisting an unknown card between his fingers, Goten watched the seductive movements of those on the dance floor, simply watching their curves dip and tug and ignored the faces. He relaxed into the curves of the corner booth, which kept him hidden from casual eyes. Amply covered in shadows, a dull lamp secured to the wall gave out sufficient light. The 'Rouge Shift' had become their regular retreat. Hidden in the depths of West City, the relatively unknown club was a haven for the recoil of those burdened. At first it was Trunk's "Brief" title that established the goodwill with the bartender yet Goten's carefree nature saw their acceptance. It also helped that their superior strength was genetically behind them.

"Fancy a Game?"

A sudden voice brought Goten's attention from the interest of rectangles, to find an unfamiliar individual watching him curiously. Her ruby locks curling at the touch of her shoulders, eyes strangely pale, almost white and for a moment he simply studied them. He blinked when he realized he was staring and lightened, the corners of his mouth turning up slightly,

"I don't play just anyone"

Sliding into the seat opposite, she tugged casually on her black halter neck, its leather glowing in the sickly light.

"I'm not just anyone"

Removing his denim jacket, Goten took up the cards, letting them slip and twist between each other. His mind inquisitive, drawn in by this girl's extending aura. There was something alluring, something mystical.

* * *

Head bowed, the Brief's heir became submerged in thought. He leant his elbows against the bar's edge, tall glass twisting between his fingers. The bodies, which brushed against him, closely crowding the bar had become invisible. Vegeta's son, Saiyan royalty, newly Capsule Corp employee, Trunks happily slipped into the crowd. Became no one, if only for a moment. No lights flashing, no interviews, no questions.

…"_Trunks," with glass's perched on the end of her nose, the reporter studied him "How does it feel to be a part of the family business?"..._

..._"Now you've graduated, what are your plans for the future?"_…

Eyes seemed to be constantly watching. If it wasn't the media, curious of the wealthy family's movements, it was his parents. Why wasn't he studying? Why wasn't he training? It was just that morning he had a dangerous argument with his father. He had been defeated by Goten, quite a rare event. His mind was distracted by those visions, by the sense of calling. It had been calling him. Vegeta immediately struck him, he could still feel the sting upon his face and a loosened tooth tasted bitter, the remnants of the adhesive.

Sighing he swallowed a large mouthful of the strong liquid, in an attempt to rid himself of thoughts, his troubles.

"Charlie, another round!"

A young man, a black waist apron covering his dark pants whilst leaving his white shirt unprotected, appeared a minute later. His short black hair damp with sweat, evidence of his hours behind the bar. Gently he placed a new glass before the saiya-jin and used one arm to lean against the counter. Charlie watched as Trunks took a sip of the alcohol, having no affect to his condition. He looked on, fascinated,

"You should tell me your secret"

Trunks looked up, nerves pulled to the surface.

"Secret?"

The barman simply nodded to the glass in the teen's hand before walking away. He watched in silence as Charlie faded, time slowed, his vision hazed. His reaction was to look to the tall glass in his hand, what was he drinking? He shook his head perhaps he finally found a substance which could overcome his hardened system.

"I'm losing it"

'You're not losing it'

Light and raspy, the male voice echoed through his mind, taking him by surprise,

'I am intrigued by your potency. It is but the strength of your mind, which holds you from his call'

Trunks rubbed his eyes and turned about. Those behind him had become hazy, their forms echoing with each movement. He let his eyes roam confused, looking for the person who spoke to him.

"What is this?"

'Have you not felt it? My master is calling you. Your will is great, but I believe it is slipping.'

Out of the crowd a solid form emerged, almost floating, towards him. A lengthy, black coat covered a male form, causing the truth behind his physique impossible to discern. He echoed Trunk's own age, dark hair slicked back into a tight braid.

'In truth I cannot see what he finds in you. A little strength is nothing to cheer about!'

"I need to get the name of this drink from Charlie"

Trunks attempted to ignore the stranger and rose from his seat. He staggered slightly before easily making his way back to Goten. A sudden hand clasped his shoulder, a grating voice spoke into his ear,

'You cannot escape him'

Jerking himself free, the teen weaved his way through the tables and bodies. He could indeed feel something, no someone pulling him and luring him. Its presence stronger then ever touched his mind, his heart. Yet its entirety held evil, radiated pain and corruption. He could not yield, would not.

"You...pale...happened?"

Trunk's brow furrowed as his tried to make out his friend's slurred speech. He could see the genuine concern and question in Goten's eyes, yet his spinning head caused his senses to skew.

"I...uh...just need some rest. I'll see you later"

In reply, Goten raised his eyebrows, nodding.

The saiya-jin backed away, it was only at that moment he noticed the girl. Her eyes were pale and she chose that moment to smile, revealing her teeth. Trunks gasped, as pearl white fangs stroked her lower lip, moments from piercing her ivory skin. This only caused him to quicken his pace. He spun and pushed his way carelessly through the gathered crowd. The groans, which came from the fallen in his wake, were dead to his ears. He thought only of escape, of the freedom from the dark spirit, which haunted him.

By the time he reached the retreat of cool night air, the significance of the pain, which throbbed in his palm, became evident. He leant back against the nearest wall, its cool stone comforting, steady. He looked down upon his palm, only to find the remnants of the alcohol glass, small shards piercing his skin. Unknowingly, he had shattered it in his grasp, adrenaline and confusion masking the pain. Groaning he wiped the pieces from his reddened hand and they tugged at his wounds as they were thrown from the palm. He stared up into the cloudless night sky and flexed the muscles of his injured limb, trying best to clear his head, which still shivered and throbbed.

* * *

"I've gotta go" Goten said as he made to follow his friend,

"No, don't go" the red head took hold of his arm, her eyes locking onto his, "we haven't finished our game"

Her eyes deceptive, holding the saiya-jin in his place.

"My friend seemed troubled, I'll be back", But he couldn't move, those eyes, "Maybe I'll stay until we finish" reluctantly Goten sat back down taking up his cards.

* * *

Trunks' head thrummed, aching as it resisted that deep voice in his mind pulling him. He stumbled as his focus was lost, moving down the street. Sighing he retreated down against the street wall again, head in his hands.

"The pain will leave if you just go to him"

"I was taught to give in to nothing" Trunks replied to the sudden foreign voice.

"Is that what you want?"

"It doesn't matter what I want!"

"Then you will live with this pain until your strength gives out"

Looking up he recognised the dark coated man from the Rouge Shift standing over him,

"Who are you?" Trunks questioned

"Just a messenger" he held out his hand for Trunks "My master wishes to speak with you"

'_What should I do? Father would never concede if told what to fulfill_'

"But the pain"

Hesitantly the teen took hold of the ice-cold hand, allowing the stranger to lift him easily to his feet. If he were thinking straight perhaps his Saiya-jin heritage would alert him to the possibility of power, a new power from the alluring being but as his mind hazed and turned all he could think about was to think straight once more.

"Take me to him"


	3. The truth of mind games

REVISED  
Title: Erratum of the spirit 2? - The truth of mind games  
Warnings: Supernatural-dark themes, violence  
Pairings: Surprise?  
Disclaimer: Unfortunately I don't own one smidgen of Dragon Ball Z sigh, and yet still I don't own one piece of the world wide Vampire legends, but I'd like the think I own my Teddy Bear…

"Speech" 'Thoughts' _…Remembrance…_

Review Responses  
jdchs: Yes I updated! Hehe, It must be a habit for me to confuse people.

* * *

Visions of Inspiration

_'It's close to midnight and something evil's lurking in the dark  
Under the moonlight you see a sight that almost stops your heart  
You try to scream but terror takes the sound before you make it  
You start to freeze as horror looks you right between the eyes  
Your paralyzed' _Thriller_ - Michael Jackson_

_'Trust me, trust me.  
I'm giving you a chance, so take it  
I've got all you want, you'll make it  
Standing there in front of me, you're naked  
You can't hide a thing you've got no choice  
Trust me.' _Trust me_ - Time Rice  
_

* * *

"Take me to him"

What was he doing? Following a stranger. A stranger whose Ki was abnormally hidden from him, as if the man did not exist. Perhaps he was dreaming? Yes that's it. He was simply dozing, hidden in the back of the club, Goten planning tricks, drawing on his face. The thought brought a smile to his strained face, which was just as quickly erased as the dull pain in his palm let itself known, brought him back to reality. In the back streets of West City, Trunks was led ever further from the night club titled 'Rouge Shift'. His body became increasingly stressed the closer they came. He could feel it, something only those who have been touched by could detect. It was an unseen evil, clouding sorrow. The coated man strode ahead of him, not looking around, expecting him to follow. The saiyan attempted to keep note of the buildings they past. Where were they going? Why were they going? Questions seemed the only thoughts atop his mind, excepting the ever-recurring picture of fangs upon lips.

'Just a dream'

It was the stale air, which hit him first, dragged him from his thoughts. He was being led down a dark stairway and its rough walls brushed his shoulders. Damp and eerie, the stairway echoed their every step. He could find no sign of life neither breath nor heartbeat touched his ears as they stepped into forking hallways.

"What do we have here?"

Startled, Trunks spun to find a gangly teen eyeing him from a previous doorway. The sickly looking male had appeared without notice, in silence and despite the fact that his hair hung limply about his face, the fangs gracing his mouth was clear.

"A soul within our grasp"

"Does it wander in freely?"

"A fool it is"

"Perhaps it wishes to join us?"

"I shall aid him in that wish"

In mere moments a number of figures surrounded them, eyeing Trunks eagerly. He tensed, slipping his left leg back instinctively, watching for their attack. Behind him a hand brushed against his shoulder, only to be knocked back by the coated man. Trunks was unable to react, their movements swift and unexpected, whilst his sense, his mind still spun in haze. They moved with agility, mist like images left where they had once been. His increased senses could barely pick up their actions an despite his present condition he was able to raise his arm in defense, taking a blow. Although another did not come, he was not touched. When their movements stopped, the confused saiya-jin looked on a scene of ravage. Several bodies upon the floor slowly pulled themselves to their feet, hatred covering their face, aimed towards his guide who had pinned the first man to wall on his left. Writhing under his grip the teen drew back his lips, threatening his captor and drew a hand back to grasp a 'T' pipe intersection in the wall. Fangs glinting in the flickering torch lights, an unnatural growl could be heard emanating from the open mouth. The coated man simply tightened his grip, driving his thumb down upon the soft of the teen's neck.

"This one isn't to be touched"

"But his warm flow is so inviting" the pinned man managed to choke out.

"Hn," The tone hinted agreement and still his guide let the man drop violently, aided with a forceful shove, "Come on boy"

Leaving behind the disappointed fiends, the pair made their way deeper within the maze below the city. Further towards the master, the being who had been calling Trunks in his dreams. He couldn't decide whether the pressure in his mind was intensifying or relieving because of his close proximity. He still couldn't understand it.

'I'm a saiya-jin, a saiya-jin of royal blood. Why am I giving in to a voice in my head? I haven't even seen this supposed 'master'. It's probably not even real.'

It was at that moment they turned and passed through an arched doorway whose wooden doors slid open on their arrival. The coated man paused in the doorway, bowing his head. Trunks took the courage well known of the saiya-jin race and paced confidently into an immense hall. With the reflection of sewers, gray stone pillars lined the walls, pipes entwining above their heads, the hall engulfed him. He looked ahead to find a shadowed figure positioned in a throne like chair, on the far side of the room.

"I am quite real"

A familiar voice burst into the room, the voice from his dreams …_"I have a gift for you"…_ Were his dreams to be brought to life? In his confusion he didn't realise that the voice had answered unspoken words. Behind him he heard the doors close, the guide who had led him here, protected him had left. And to tell the truth, Trunks was relieved to be rid of him, no matter how short a time they had met. The man gave off a 'bad vibe' as Bra would put it.

"For many days I have been calling you. And you have taken your time answering"

In the face of this being, whose deep voice reflected that of a male, Trunks became almost speechless for the man too had no distinct Ki. Yet the power, which emanated from his form, was a form of power that he had never felt before. Far from that of Babidi's, far from Buu's, this power reminded him of his deepest fears, seemed to draw on the darkness around them. The power had no distinct identity, hiding amongst others, invisible. Only his proximity allowed him to sense its force. Looking at the position under the black cloak where its head should be, he managed to announce his question to the figure, his voice echoing into the walls,

"What is this?"

Rising the figure moved slowly towards him across the hall, at least 50 meters between them, "This will be your life...or your death if you prefer to twist your mind to that perspective" at this a hidden hand gestured to the dank surroundings "I myself, refrain from thinking such. Tis a bitter life for those who wish it...", Furrowing his brow, a trait he had unknowingly taken on of late, Trunks was about to reply when the being continued, "...and I wish it, not upon myself of course. Pain is a powerful tool boy, never forget that. It can lure yet restrain your prey in one swift movement"

"Wait" Trunks lifted his arm, palm facing forward, "Who are you?"

"Questions. I sense confusion overshadowing your mind. Do you not know your destiny, the change that will come about because of you...or those around you? It has been foretold that your kind will bring us to our demise. I am determined to stop that, change destiny. For decades we have watched you, you and your kind. Determined to save this petty world, you fight against the means for its evolution."

The form was now just inches from his face, a sudden hot breath spicy upon his senses, washed against his skin and brushed lightly at his bangs. His heart beat quickened, as sweat formed, a strange fear rising to the surface. Something was holding him, he couldn't move.

"I have chosen you, for you alone have an ache in your heart, a need to impress. When you stand by my side, they will not doubt the strength of your abilities."

Trunk's eyes widened, was this stranger speaking about his latest troubles. That morning had seen the recent bouts with his father heighten, he had had to overlook his training to concentrate on his studies. He quickly shook his head, of course not,

'I'm just dreaming', Piercing his eyes closed, he rubbed his temples, breathing deeply.

"You're not dreaming!" The voice rose, an angered tone coming forth,

"I am Lord Bahri of the risen! You are starting to test my patience boy. The life you now hold shall be past and the future told will be changed by you!", If he were not frozen in place, Trunks would have taken a step back from the man.

"Trust me. Your mind is naked to me, each thought I can touch."

Suddenly the lord's hood slipped backwards, revealing a pale face, raven hair straight down past his shoulders, no end in site. His eyes completely white, no pupil could be seen, however Trunks still could feel the probing gaze. Sickly skin made way for snaking veins along the smooth skin.

"It is best if you trust me."

It was when the pain came that Trunks realised this was not a dream, he was wide awake. There was no way he could sleep through this pain, it felt as if his soul were being ripped from his body, skin torn. It was the moment when he broke from his strange trance that he realised a new power was rising, the earth was no longer safe.

* * *

A/N: I changed the rating to 'R' as a precaution, as it will change and I'm not sure if this is PG-13 yet it's not 'R'. I will forget to increase the rating later so I thought I better do it now.

Questions? Comments? Found stupid mistakes? I'd love to know about it!


	4. I can feel you

REVISED  
Title: Erratum of the spirit 3? - I can feel you  
Warnings: Supernatural-dark themes, violence.  
Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Ball Z, nor do I own any of the materials from, which the quotes are borrowed.

Notes: I know that this chapter is a really short I didn't want to put the continuing events in this chapter. I like it how it is.

"Speech" 'Thoughts' _…Remembrance…_

Review Responses  
HiwatariGirl: Thanks so much. I try and update as soon as I can but I just finished school and I get a bit preocupied. I'm so sorry!

* * *

Visions of Inspiration

_"And I swear that I can feel you  
Your breath upon my skin  
And whenever I need you  
I can hear you whispering"_ The Lighthouse_ - Amity Dry_

* * *

With his body curled, bones shaking, Trunk's breathing had become erratic. The damp stone below him was of little comfort as the agony surrounding his neck overwhelmed the pain of the defense wounds on his arms, legs, chest. The memories of his own fight against the master quickly forgotten and so the fleeting queries of the wounds source flit across his mind, only to be pushed back by the pain. In the background a strange yet somehow familiar taste sweetened his senses. Sweet and salty, whole yet empty, the taste seemed most electrifying.

"Aghnn...what's happeni...?", He managed to choke out the universal question, his voice hoarse.

"You're dying" the same deep voice, hinted with sophistication but covered in boredom "Yet you are being born. The pain is addicting isn't it?"

With what seemed like a sudden last breath, the saiya-jin's chest heaved and the last of the air was forced from his lungs. He tore at his throat in a desperate attempt to replace the lost air, blind to his own blood that washed over his hands, his neck.

"It is partially your fault you know. It's the pain in your heart, which enabled me to lure you"

A cold hand was felt brushing his forehead, bringing little comfort.

"Your blood is quite unusual, not like human blood, gave my system quite the shock..."

The man's words faded from Trunk's ears suddenly as darkness engulfed his senses, yet as he faded that pain only increased, as if knives slipped through his skin, piercing his bones. With the last of his energy he blindly called to the last one on his mind, the one he believed could save him,

"Father..."

* * *

It was the dread that woke him. A strange fear tugging at his mind, his heart. Something was wrong. 

Sitting up instantly, sweat streaming down over his face, Vegeta stared into the shadows across the room. He rubbed his forehead, as if trying to remove the sudden pain in his scalp. Beside him he could feel a warm form, and he would never admit so openly but his heart smiled and mind sang knowing she was there...with him. Yet the lonely warmth in his heart was to be forgotten at that moment for a sudden fear had woken him. A strange knowledge. He had felt this only once before, when they were fighting Cell.

'But no it couldn't be, there's no way, nothing is strong enough'

Almost silently the saiya-jin slipped from the covers, taking up the dark tank top beside the bed on his way. He glanced to the clock upon the wall before he left the room, 4:49am, the sun should rise soon. A muffled moan touched his ears as he closed the door, dismissing it as Bulma's disturbed sleep increasing of late. As he made his way through the hallways of the capsule corp. residence, he let his mind find each member's Ki signature. Bulma behind him, Bra light and sleeping, Mr. and Mrs. Brief, the in-laws, where Mrs. Brief's Ki was softened by most likely sleep, Mr. Brief's signature was active, or as active as that Human scientist could reach, he was awake already. Before he could search further he found himself outside Bra's room, and on instinct, a new instinct, strange and unknown, Vegeta opened the door quietly. Peering inside he saw his teen daughter curled under cream sheets, softly breathing. The light from the hallway caused her blue locks to shimmer as she shifted.

Convinced nothing was amiss he closed the door and walked towards his son's room. He suddenly realised he didn't feel his Ki nearby, perhaps he was still out with Goten. An ill feeling tore at his stomach, as his steps quickened, fear and anger rising. Without thought the father slammed open the white door, its contact with the wall behind echoing throughout the large home. The light from the hallway revealed an empty bed, no sign of ever being slept in.

It was Trunks, something was definitely wrong. Was it a father's instinct that he new? Trunks had stayed out late many a time since his high school graduation, so why was today different?

* * *

A/N: I have not read any of Anne Rice's novels if you are curious and so none of her novels have influenced me in the slightest. My knowledge has come from research into mythology and legends, as well as various movies and stories. There's some great European fables and lore surrounding Vampires, especially from churches. 


	5. Right before your eyes

Title: Erratum of the spirit 4/? - Right before your eyes I am changing  
  
Warnings: Supernatural-dark themes, violence, alcohol/drug reference, rating change precautionary.  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Ball Z, nor do I own any of the materials from, which the quotes are borrowed.  
  
"* * * * * * * * * *" = Change in place, time or perspective  
  
"Speech" * Thoughts * *^* Memories *^*  
  
Review Responses  
  
* * * * * * * * * *  
  
Visions of Inspiration  
  
'There will be no more feelings that I'm all alone  
  
I will surround myself with things that help me grow, grow  
  
Right before your eyes I am changing, changing  
  
New life on the inside I am changing, changing' Right Before your eyes  
  
* * * * * * * * * *  
  
As the breeze played with the light curtains, the sun's midday rays touched the newly woken form. His eyes slowly opening, a groan escaping his lips in response the to unwelcome light. Rolling over the young semi-saiyan buried his face into the pillow below, just as the piercing doorbell echoed through his home.  
  
He could vaguely hear the sound of his mother's voice welcoming the guest, her cheerful speech signs of a friend.  
  
"Goten! You have a visitor"  
  
But the late teen had already fallen back into slumber, his light breathing all the evidence.  
  
He had returned home late in the night when Trunks did not come back to the club. Goten had given a short search for his friend but when no sign of him came up he decided that Vegeta's son had indeed felt tired and returned home. Not paricularly worried he also traveled home a time later in search of a lengthy sleep. Strangely the red head, whom had so intrigued him almost simply disappeared, whispering her business was complete and left her presence printed into his mind.  
  
A sudden dull pain across his cheek brought him from his sleep only to find himself looking up into familiar eyes and ocean blue hair. He blinked the remaining haze from his eyes and pushed himself halfway up, looking to the digital clock at his beside.  
  
"It's about time, I thought you'd never wake!"  
  
Rubbing his cheek protectively, Goten glared up at the girl before him,  
  
"Bra? What are you doing here?!"  
  
"It's not my choice," Vegeta's youngest leant back against a nearby cabinet, "Mother sent me. She's worried about Trunks"  
  
"He was feeling tired last night, how am I supposed to wake him?" Goten turned and took up a black robe, covering his half-naked body,   
  
"He sleeps deeper then me", a smirk spread across the saiyan's face.  
  
Blushing, Bra pushed off from the wall and took a serious tone,  
  
"Goten, he didn't come home last night. I told mum that he was probably off somewhere training but she insisted I come and speak with you"  
  
The usually energetic teen yawned outwardly before he led the way from the room. Chichi had coffee in her hand as she stood over a sizzling hotplate,  
  
"It's about time you got up."  
  
"Sure" Goten's lukewarm response indicating he'd rather not be,   
  
"So Bra, where's Trunks?"  
  
The girl had now become impatient, muscles tensed,  
  
"I told you he's missing"  
  
"You told me he didn't come home last night..." pouring himself a strong coffee, Goku's son prepared himself for what seemed was going to be a long day, "...there's a difference"  
  
Chichi turned her head sharply glaring at her son,  
  
"Don't be so impolite!"  
  
Goten bowed his head in silent guilt, downing his coffee before pasting an infectious grin upon his face,  
  
"I'm sorry, just not a morning person. Don't worry I bet Trunk is fine..."  
  
Bra raised her eyebrow studying the teen surprising change in expression. Although on the outside she seemed indifferent to Trunk's suspect disappearance deep within even Goten could sense she was fearful.  
  
"...He's probably just taking a break, training or sleeping. He's always been the best at hiding himself!"  
  
* * * * * * * * * *  
  
"What have you done to me!?"  
  
A wearied form propped itself against cool stone, hunched over, hiding its face. Beneath silver locks sharp white fangs glinted in the somber firelight, tears unable to fall.   
  
The pain still seared through his skin as Trunks bit down upon his lower lip, rewarded with the additional sting of broken skin. His eyes, unlike the others remained sharp and dark as he looked up to his sire. The pain evident in his soul, the emotion on his face, the once saiyan pleaded for an answer.  
  
"Like I have to so many others," the coated master knelt before his new creation, pale eyes meeting black "I have allowed you to become stronger. So much more powerful then it was ever possible in mortal form. It is just as you wished, you wanted to please someone"  
  
Trunks tore his face away, squeezing his eyes tightly shut, for once wishing tears would fall. Yet he felt strange, as if no fluid was flowing through his form, as if his body didn't respond. His suddenly realised the ache of his form, a hunger and gripping his chest, he let his head fall.   
  
Listening, he waited for the feeling of that familiar beat, once strong and unbroken, and now in surprise he found it missing. His heart.   
  
"You must be hungry," the master, calling himself Bahri rose to his feet "It is time"  
  
Unknown to Trunks, the master signaled to a form in the doorway, who disappeared from the room.   
  
"This is how it is and will be"  
  
It only seemed like moments later that Trunks found a weight shoved upon him. He opened his eyes to find a shivering body lying upon his lap, long hair covering their face. Instinctively he brushed the dark hair from their face to find a boy, about his own age, eyes closed and fluttering. His eyes wandered to the tanned skin upon the boys neck, fresh and somehow welcoming.  
  
He looked up to the form of his sire, questioning. The figure simply waved a hand to the body in his arms, as if expecting something.  
  
Trunks once more looked down upon the flesh, studying it as a hunger built up.  
  
* What is this? *  
  
His eyes dug into the skin on the boy's neck, searching. Watching he could feel the warmth of the teen's form, crimson liquid welcoming him, pulling him. Washing his tongue over his newly found teeth, Trunks leant in breathing in the smell, the taste.   
  
Something took over, almost an instinct, it was new, unfound, enticing.  
  
Taking grip of the boy's hair and shoulder firmly, Trunks let his paired teeth sink softly into the untouched skin upon the neck. It was not long until warmth swam into his mouth, satisfying. He couldn't stop. He was like a spoilt child, craving more, the captivating taste entranced his senses. Pulling the form closer he forced the life from the now gasping boy, the warmth slipping slowly from his weight.  
  
One last breath escaped the struggling boy in Trunks arms, before he was silenced, still.  
  
Looking down to the skin below him, Bulma's son pulled back, his teeth jerked from broken flesh. He could hardly feel the liquid rolling down from the corners of his mouth, staining his blue shirt. Shocked his pushed the lifeless body away from him and swiftly climbed to his feet, stumbling away.  
  
"What have I done?" 


	6. Can’t control the need

Title: Erratum of the spirit 5/? – Can't control the need

Warning: Supernatural/Dark themes, violence, alcohol/drug reference

Notes: Sorry for this chaps delay, my laptop was being repaired!

Ok I need a few ideas and inspiration if you have some hanging around. I know where this story is going but I need a few ideas of its path or anything you wish to see. Please!

Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I do not own Dragon Ball Z, nor do I own any of the materials from, which the quotes are borrowed.

"* * * * * * * * * *" = Change in place, time or perspective

"Speech" * Thoughts * ~/////////~ Memories ~/////////~

Review Responses - Sorry for not replying to the reviews in the last chapter, I'll do it in this one.

Chapter four

Chiruri-Katsu: Thanks so much! Hate to admit but I love compliments!

Jdchs: Oh I hope your finals went well, or are going well. Good Luck! It is such a compliment to have my story even just remind you of Anne Rice's work. Thankyou!

Chapter five

Chiruri-Katsu: I'm glad it's interesting! I've updated, just not soon. ^_^

Denielle: Thanks! Yes Trunks is a vampire, or close there to. Is Trunks dead? Now that is a good question…

* * * * * * * * * *

Visions of Inspiration

"Why has this feeling taken over,

I'm finding it so hard to breathe (Oh please)" I 4 U – Guy Sebastian

"I can't control the need 

Too weak to not concede

Wish I was deaf and dumb

Wish I could fake it" _Hang on_ – Seether

* * * * * * * * * *

"What have I done?"

Despite his horror, Trunk's skin tingled and his mind danced at the newfound strength. His eyes were kept pinned on the body lying limp before him, trying to identify the teen. There was something familiar.

The fear was still present in lifeless eyes, mouth open in a failed attempt to reach air.

He stumbled back as the identity appeared in his head. Too suddenly. It was his friend, a classmate. They had studied together for physics and he had…killed him.

* I've killed him *

The words kept repeating endlessly through his mind, twisting, transforming his nature. Something had changed in his soul as soon as the liquid touched his skin, he could feel a part of him hidden, withdrawn, captured. He felt a mixture of satisfaction and anxiety, as memories of his late classmate flashed and his teeth against live flesh was remembered.

Regaining his confidence Trunks knelt slowly back down to the body, whispering the name, which uneasily came to his tongue.

"Tenshi, Tenshi, Tenshi…"

"Pity?" the master's voice questioned, "You feel guilt?!"

Unable to touch the cold body below him, Trunk's hands hovered just millimeters from the drained skin, fearful of touching it, yet the feeling of satisfaction from the event was strange and new. He was just able to comprehend the master's question, and there was something about his sire's voice that forced him to answer.

"Guilt?" And for the first time he realised that it wasn't that feeling, which tore at his heart. No it was not guilt, never guilt but fear and mirth mixed together, swirling and enriching each other. 

"No. All I feel is strength"

* And it's choking me *

"All I know is fear"

* And it's taking control *

"All I want is to kill!"

* And it's you whom has taken me *

* * * * * * * * * *

Meanwhile, as the sun shows midday down upon West city, King Yemma remembers the worrying memory of the past night. His eyes wandered over the doorway to snake way, watching each small spirit arrive, distracted by his own thoughts.

~/////////~

"Next"

A small white spirit vanished as the next in line moved forward. There were only a hand full waiting to move into the Next Dimension, it had been so quiet in recent times yet anyone could observe the slow rise in the number of souls from Earth.

It was not hard to notice the form, which moved into the doorway across the room. Yemma looked up from the ledger before him and raised his eyebrows at the silver haired teen leaning on the archway. He seemed out of breath, drained. Yemma's voice echoed across the hall,

"My boy, why are you so tired? You're body should regain it's strength here"

Trunks moved slowly towards the large desk and bent over slightly, breathing heavily. His eyes blurred he looked up to the giant man.

"Where am I?"

"Why you've just come off snake way, you've died boy" the dark bearded man leant forward and continued "Don't you remember?"

The teen whose featured seemed so familiar, tilted his head in thought and nodded softly, his face saddened, his voice soft and distant.

"Yes, I remember" 

"Hmm, your name please"

"Trunks Brief"

The king's eyebrows furrowed in thought for a moment then his eyes cheered, as he wrote down the teen's name.

"That's where I remember you. You're Vegeta's son! The only reason you've still got you're body is because you helped out saving your world. Yet only once. Didn't think you'd get to be like that for just once and it wasn't even you that saved it. It's getting easier and easier to keep your body these days, what are we coming to?"

Yemma's musings were interrupted by a painful groan, Trunks had fallen to his knees, one hand on his head the other on his throat.

"What are you doing?"

Suddenly Trunks body began to thin, the pillar behind him began to show through his skin. Yemma gasped as the teen started to flicker, fading in and out, his face twisted in pain.

"Hnn…something's pulling me…hnnn!"

With these last forced words Vegeta's son faded from Yemma's hall.

~/////////~

King Yemma silently recorded the name of the next spirit, head in his hand.

* Perhaps he was wished back by those Dragon Balls. Doesn't explain his pain though. *

He sighed and closed his eyes softly, having no way of knowing, no way of helping he quietly dismissed the subject. Maybe he'd take it up later, he had work to do.

* * * * * * * * * *

A/N: Reviews make the chaps come faster, flames or other wise. I'd prefer otherwise, lol!


	7. Can't live without you!

Title: Erratum in the Spirit 6/? – Can't live without you

Warning: Supernatural/Dark themes, violence, alcohol/drug reference

Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I do not own Dragon Ball Z, nor do I own any of the materials from, which the quotes are borrowed.

"* * * * * * * * * *" = Change in place, time or perspective

"Speech" * Thoughts * ~/////////~ Memories ~/////////~

Review Responses -

Chiruri-Katsu: More thankyous for your great compliments and here's the next chap.

Jdchs: Thanks, I always did like King Yemma, snake way and such isn't seen enough in fan fics.

* * * * * * * * * *

Visions of Inspiration

__

'I love you, I hate you, I can't live without you!' – 'Always' by Saliva

* * * * * * * * * *

* "All I want is to kill!" *

The words replayed, echoing through his mind as the once saiyan, or so he now believed, sat knees held up to his chest. Because he couldn't leave, there was no way he could leave his sire and he hated this feeling, the dependency. He shook his head trying to rid his mind of these thoughts yet of no prevail.

His eyes stared into nowhere, his form hidden in the shadows of the master's hall as he tried to figure out what had happened. He new he had changed, just hours before he felt a part of him ripped from his mind as he had passed out.

When he had awoken that part that had left him had returned, yet held back, forcefully hidden and slowly withering. His skin felt chilled and his teeth sharpened, randomly slicing his pale lips. He held a hand to his chest trying desperately to find the beat of his heart, finding it silenced, still. 

* I can't be, I'm… *

He couldn't even admit it to himself, yet he knew that he was strong, powerful. It surged through his bones, his muscles it somehow reminded him of Bahri, of Tenshi. A part of them moved through him, from the time their blood touched his lips and whilst his sire's presence was readily flowing through him, Tenchi was fading. 

His former classmate's body lay still on the stone floor just a meter before him, revealed in the dull light. There had been many comings and goings in the last hours yet no one had moved the body. He looked through the shadows to his sire; his eyes were drawn to the master whom simply flicked his gaze to Trunks with a calm expression.

Pale eyes of the many entering undead, glared directly onto him as if he were irregular and unwelcome, the shadows never fazing them. At first he ignored them, their looks. Ignored the nonsense chatter of tributes and assignments, of recent deaths, assassinations. But as he watched, a small blonde passed by, eyes pale yet his pupils visible if one would stare long enough, the unknown vampire turned his head suddenly, eyeing Trunks. The blonde slowed studying him for a moment before anger crossed his features. An anger or was it,

* Jealousy? *

It reminded him of Goten one time, but one time, his friend could never hold a grudge. It was Trunk's birthday, he received his own gravitation chamber, and he was ecstatic. And although it was a sign from his father to up his training, he didn't mind. It was then that something flashed before Goten's eyes, he could only identify it as jealousy. 

His mind returning to the hall, out of his memories, he was in time to see the blonde walking back past him to leave, his business complete. His face twisted to glare upon Trunks, as if he were an intruder, as if he were not one of them. 

Something in the blue eyed teen snapped, he couldn't control it. Perhaps it was his saiyan pride, he wished this was so yet he knew this wasn't the only factor, he was changed, stronger and yet he was…dead.

"Alive"

But a whisper before he leapt from the shadows, lunged at the blonde vampire and let out his frustration in a low growl. Taking grip of his throat squeezing then throwing the form easily back against the dank wall opposite his previous position, right of the master's location, Trunks voiced the only words he was able to form, his voice husky and inflamed.

"What are you looking at?!"

The blonde stood quickly, rubbing his neck, and looked to the master as if waiting for advice.

"Trunks, calm yourself!" waving a hand to the blonde, Bahri waited for him to leave before continuing, "I have been very patient. You know what you are now, do you not appreciate the immense gift I have given you?"

"Gift?!"

"Immortality boy, power!"

"But I killed my friend", Trunks looked to the stiff, blue form lying to the side.

"Yes, you killed him yet he is no longer your friend. The life you knew, it can no longer exist. I don't understand why your guilt remains, why your memories haunt you so but they have no place in your life. They can all sense it, your difference, your eyes remain, they know you're resisting."

As if reading his mind, Bahri turned his eyes to the door and continued,

"And yes they are jealous. Jealous of your power, of your importance to me. They believe you are a waste of time, that I should have just killed you and permanently prevented the foretold future, instead of siring you. They're afraid." 

Trunks worked over his words and looked down at his hands, flexing, trying to comprehend what had just been said,

* They're afraid of me? I'm resisting, then maybe I can return to the way I was *

A dry chuckle emanated from the dark hood,

"Try as you may, there is no possible way to return. Your resistance simply pales your power, tortures you with useless guilt. Let it go."

Rising, Bahri's coat washed softly over the damp tiles and he let his arm gesture to Tenshi.

"Blood is life and the only way to receive it is through them"

He slid the hood from his over his head revealing his features the clearer.

"Your family is here now, you are a part of my family"

Trunks knew it, he could feel it, his link to them, to him. What Bahri was saying was correct and his voice seemed almost affectionate. Yet that commanding tongue always remained that fire in his face, which caused Trunks to glare back into the white eyes, defying.

The cuts on his arms and chest still remained, slowly healing, throbbing hazily, reminding him of his resistance.

"I will never join you!"

Pulling himself straight, Trunks dug deep into Bahri's eyes with his own. He held his arms before him, ready to charge, but he couldn't attack him, something held him back. His eyes! His eyes burned into him, holding that part, which still remained, the humanity that was pushed back and slowly fading.

"As long as that humanity remains, I can control you"

Trunks stood before Bahri for what seemed lifelong moments his fighting, pushing back Barhi's control fruitless. Finally he let his hands drop, bowing his head and Bahri approached him, pushing Trunk's locks out of his face.

"I know your struggles, your heart ache. They don't understand you, they expect too much of you. What you need, you wish I can give you. Strength, power, speed. Just let go and join me. I will never desert you as your father did, never!"

* Desert me? Yes, father intended to leave, he gave up on us, blew himself up, joined the enemy for strength! He didn't care. *

"If he wants strength, I'll give him strength!"

It was too hard to resist for any further and so Trunk's let it slip, that piece of humanity, which had returned when he awoke. It fell, fell deep into his mind with no hope of finding a way out. His mind reeled, anger, obscurity bending his thoughts to their own will, his greed surfacing. 

On the outside Trunks had bent over tearing at his face, his head. His teeth sharpened, fangs lengthening from their previous short stubs, his eyes flickered, the blue fading and finally his pupils turned to a shade of cream.

"I think it's time I paid my family a visit. They always say that children follow in their parents footsteps."

Giving 'family' a hated underscore, Trunk's head raised, a venomous grin filled his expression, sweat logged hairs fixed to his forehead. 

"Father has taught me well"

* * * * * * * * * *

Goten slumped down into a cushioned armchair in the Capsule Corp residence, one arm dangling over the side, his head leant back. He sighed and closed his eyes as he spoke,

"I've looked in all his usual spots and even the surrounding country side. He really doesn't want to be found"

"Maybe he's hurt. It's your fault," Bulma turned on Vegeta who walked in towel hanging over his shoulders, forehead gleaning from heavy training, "If only you two would quit fighting, why couldn't you give him a break?!"

"You can talk woman!"

The prince planned to continue yet thought it wise to remain at a death glare, he had seen the results of mother on the warpath, a bald Kakarot still brought a smirk to his face. He leant back against the wall, arms crossed.

"I'll go back out in the morning," Goten said hopefully, he glanced out the window and saw the sun had just slipped under the horizon, it was setting so early recently, only seven, "It's getting dark"

"He'll be back…when he's hungry" Vegeta also turned his gaze out into the night, his thoughts contrary to his words,

* I can't sense him. Idiot child, what's he got himself into this time?! *

"Thank you Goten. Come, you should eat be…"

Bulma's sentence was suddenly interrupted by the sound of a loud doorbell emanating from the front door. Her eyes shot in its direction, 

"Bra, get the door"

Bulma's daughter groaned and pushed herself up slowly. She only left with little protest to humor her mother; she could see the pain in her eyes.

Bra leant up to the heavy door and looked through the tiny peephole. She gasped at what she saw,

"Trunks?!"

Outside her brother leant with one arm pressed against the wall casually, less then a meter from the door. His face was paled, shining with sweat, his arms covered in bruises, and half healed cuts. He grinned up at her and something in his face brought fright.

* * * * * * * * * *

A/N: When I wrote this I just sat down and finished it in one go, so if there are any stupid mistake, please let me know, lol.

Please review. I'd greatly appreciate it!


	8. Reunion

Title: Erratum in the Spirit 7/? – Reunion

Warning: Supernatural/Dark themes, violence, alcohol/drug reference

Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I do not own Dragon Ball Z, nor do I own any of the materials from, which the quotes are borrowed.

"* * * * * * * * * *" = Change in place, time or perspective

"Speech" * Thoughts * ~/////////~ Memories ~/////////~

Review Responses -

Jdchs: Thanks so much! I'm glad you liked it, here's the next chap.

* * * * * * * * * *

__

'I don't need you anymore

I don't want to be ignored

I don't need one more day

Of you wasting me away

With no apologies' – 'Don't Stay' by Linkin Park

* * * * * * * * * *

Trunk's sensed his sister hesitating on the other side of the door, could see her face in his mind with her mouth wide no doubt. The thought only made his grin widen, as he waited to be invited inside. He had already tried to enter through an upstairs window but to no avail, an invisible barrier had stopped him, sparks flying upon his skin. Remembering somewhere in the back of his mind that the undead had to be invited. Snarling silently he had dropped to the front door and waited patiently.

Yet this patience was quickly running thin and his grin was slowly fading, as the door didn't budge a minute after he sensed his sister on the other side. His eyes involuntarily moved to glare through the peephole and his voice came commanding as he called to the girl,

"Are you going to let me in or not?"

He heard the subtle turning of cogs as the locks were suddenly disengaged and the door swung open. Bra's eyed flicked over his form, scrutinizing. 

"Where have you been? Mother's furious!"

Her words were still as criticizing as usual, still as childish. Trunk's looked deep into her eyes, refraining from raising his voice,

"Move aside and let me in won't you?"

"Let you in? Sure, whatever" 

Bra's voice was defeated, as if she was in dire need of sleep. She shrugged and walked off down the hallway.

Tentatively, Trunks moved to the doorway and slipped a hand through the frame. When nothing happened, when his skin remained intact, he slipped into the house closing the door soundlessly behind him. Before the door closed, he locked his eyes into the night, into those of the waiting guide. The master still did not trust him alone, the coated man whom had found him in the club was told to stay with him.

~/////////~

"Name's Raoul. I've been ordered to watch over you"

Trunk's looked over to the pale vampire, whose charcoal hair contrasted vividly with his white skin. They stood in the cool night air just outside the entrance to the maze of the Master's halls. 

It was then that Trunks was able to catch a decent look at the man. He stood at least a head taller then the silver head and seemed at least a year or two older, as the wind took hold of his long coat it revealed a muscled form, his chest highlighted by the deep violet top, pants dark and loose. Alike many others, his pupils were a pale cream, and his fangs revealed purposely as he spoke, he could easily hide them.

"Watch over me! I don't need anyone to make sure I don't stray. Doesn't Bahri trust me to do my job?!"

Trunk's voice was filled with venom and hatred never seen before in his existence. Raoul looked down upon him, his face calm and composed,

"Unlikely. No matter how much I detest having the forewarned besides me, our Master trusts you but you still haven't earned my trust"

"Is that why you're here?!"

"Settle, there is no more need to fight alone. Look at me as a _partner_ if it makes you feel better. We move much faster in numbers"

Trunk's moved violently at Raoul, aiming to knock him back against the wall, yet his fist hit air, whisking past the opposition's head and before he could react a firm hand grasped his wrist, pulling him in and then stars.

* The stars are so beautiful. Have I ever just looked at them before? *

The back of his head throbbed softly and he pushed himself up, daring washed over his face as he swept a leg at Raoul's own. His bone touched the coated man's causing him to stumble briefly, easily regaining his balance. 

"I fight _alone_!" Trunks spat.

The elder vampire was simply too fast or was it too experienced? Trunks found himself swept from his position on the pathment and pinned against the aging brick wall. Raoul's hand pressed in a death grip against Trunk's neck, he was barely able to speak.

"You're still young kid, and if I may say, way too cocky!"

"_Partners?_" Trunk's wheezed reluctantly.

"Partners" Raoul let the younger man drop and casually knocked the boy's shoulder with one arm.

~/////////~

His thoughts twirled through his mind menacingly as he paced with newfound grace into the direction of his family's voices. Should he call them family? The master was right, _his_ master was right, 

* They're no longer my family. I'm here only for the fun. The looks upon their faces! To lure them in, gain their trust. Give Masters message. *

Was that all? Revenge maybe, to fulfill that promise Bahri had made to him,

*^* _What you need, you wish I can give you._ *^*

All he needed was to show the Prince of all Saiyans that he was no weakling, that he would never be a weakling. For all those insults, which now felt like dust upon his fingers, for all those blows, which now felt like the prick of a pin. Trunks would show him, if not for himself, for his new family. The family, which brought him strength and whom feed his lust, greed and desire.

"Guess whose finally come home…"

Bra's voice from behind the wall to his right was easily audible to his ears, despite its soft nature. He heard the sound of shuffling feet emanate from the resident's lounge and Bulma appeared in the hallway, steaming mug in her hands.

She hesitated when she saw his pale complexion, the bruises and fading cuts upon his hands, his sweat sleeked hair. Too worried to notice his eyes, drawn to the red cuts upon his bottom lip.

"Oh Trunks, I've been worried sick"

Trunks watched in silence as his mother abandoned the mug and approached smiling. She embraced him and stiffly he placed a hand on her back, senses wavering when he saw the soft skin of her neck.

"And he'd never say so himself but your father awoke early this morning, he was also worried"

"Worried? Father? Ha, that'd be the day!"

"Don't underestimate him, son"

* I never underestimated him. I just needed him, needed him to teach me *

'I don't need him anymore' Trunk's whispered,

"What was that?"

"Nothing" Bulma began to pull him towards the lounge when Trunks continued, "Why were you worried anyway, I wasn't gone that long?"

"A day and a half, almost two," Trunks couldn't help but roll his eyes at her words, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"I don't need you anymore, _mother_!" jerking from her grip he moved ahead and before he left the hallway he turned his head and spoke seriously,

"I'm not a little boy anymore"

* * * * * * * * * *

Goten could hear voices echoing from the hall and he swore one was Trunks. Sitting up in the chair he waited eagerly for the two to walk into the room. His eyes moved instinctively to Bra, whom sat drinking steaming hot chocolate and then to Vegeta.

The pure saiyan was tense, his eyes locked onto the doorway, something in his eyes. He looked as if he were about to gaze upon an enemy, fire and darkness biting at his edges. What was wrong? Goten rose his eyebrows questionably and studied closer. Took in the air and the Ki about him, Vegeta, Bra, Bulma. Everything was normal.

"I'm not a little boy anymore"

Trunks! He couldn't feel Trunks. His Ki was not there. It was as if he were…

No. Goten removed the thought and rose swiftly to his feet, his fists clenching. His friend moved into the doorway, the state of his body frightened him, the fact that he couldn't feel his Ki terrified him.

"Trunks?"

"Goten"

His voice was different, darker, misleading, confident. When their eyes locked Goten could no longer read them, they were paled, hidden. He could find no happiness, none of the joy that was previously held, he would have settled for that angered glare when he played a joke on him.

"Are you ok?"

Goten's voice was suspicious and Trunks new he had the right to be. 

"As good as can be, under the circumstances" 

"Circumstances?"

"Let's just say I've had a rough day"

In this time Vegeta had stepped forward, studying his son carefully, taking in each detail. 

* Physically it looks like Trunks, yet his eyes, his energy. What has the brat done? *

"What have you done boy?!"

Trunk's eyes swept to his father, followed closely by his body, taking several steps to stand face to face with the prince.

"Me? I haven't done anything…mostly"

It was so sudden, a movement which replayed quite often when training or when punishing insolence. Vegeta's fist appeared by the side of his son's head and for the first time, blocked by Trunk's forearm.

"Who are you?"

The two remained in that position just inches from each other, either could move, either could harm the other.

"I'm who you wanted me to be, _father_"

"Your Ki, you have no signature, which either means you're an android or you're dead" taking in a deep breath, Vegeta repositioned his attack, using his free head to swing at Trunk's face. The pale eyed teen easily blocked the fist and pushed away, landing near the door.

"An android?! What an insult,"

Throwing his arm to the side he smashed the glass vase, which had been sitting on the same wooden table almost all his life. He removed his gazed from his father to find a large enough shard of glass, it's tip pointed as a knife.

"Androids don't bleed do they?"

Trunks gripped the shard tight enough for his knuckles to whiten. He raised it to the top of his arm, near his shoulder and after pushing up the short sleeve pressed the blade to his skin. His face winced as he sliced into his skin, a small cut deep enough to reveal the blood forced into his system, Tenshi's blood, Bahri's blood, perhaps remnants of his own. It dripped slowly from the incision, so much slower then usual.

"Trunks!!"

Goten leapt forward, attempting to pull the blade from his friend's hand, unsuccessfully. 

"As you can see I'm not an android and alive enough"

"You must be sick, something's wrong with your mind. Come and lie down"

His mother's voice, once soothing, came to his ears from the doorway.

"I'm not sick! I'm stronger then ever and have come with a message"

"Please brother,"

Bra stood her eyes strangely pleading,

"Lie down"

"He's coming for you, dear sister" Trunk's eyed Bra with hunger, danger, she winced under his gaze.

"He's coming for all of you. This is just a warning, I wish I could act myself but I have been ordered to deliver this message only"

"Ordered by who?!" Vegeta asked fiercely,

"By my master, he wishes to kill you personally, Vegeta. He must respect you" 

Bowing his head softly he pushed past a dazed Bulma without another word.

"Stop! Turn around now, Brat!"

Vegeta voice echoed loudly through the halls, he new somehow it was his son, somehow. But Trunks keep on walking his fists clenched, how he wished to oppose his father, show him how strong he was. And for a moment a part deep inside him, cried out, called to the man behind him, calling for help.

* * * * * * * * * *

A/N: I'm not sure about this chap. Please let me know your thoughts and/or ways to improve and REVIEW!


	9. No Respect

Title: Erratum in the Spirit 8/? – No respect

Warnings: Violence, supernatural-dark themes, light alcohol/drug use.

Notes: Sorry for the delay in this chapter, my computer was totally fried by an electrical storm.

Disclaimer: I do not in anyway own Dragonball Z nor the matter associated with the quotes given. Promise!

Review Response

Chiruri-Katsu: I'm so glad you liked the chapter, I was a little worried about it. Your reviews certainly keep the chapters coming. *Bows thankfully*

Jdchs: You _love_ my fic? How amazing is that! Thank you so much. *Hugs* Here's more.

Everyone's reviews keep the chapters coming. More Thank yous!

* * * * * * * * * *

'_You see I cannot be forsaken _

Because I'm not the only one 

We walk amongst you 

Feeding 

Raping

Must we hide from everyone' - 'Forsaken' by Disturbed

* * * * * * * * * *

"Stop! Turn around now, Brat!"

Trunks ignored Vegeta's call as he walked from the capsule corp. residence, his back upon the fuming saiyan. He let the white door knock against the wall behind it, leaving it open wide as he moved for the surrounding fence, short and clean. Leaping he landed upon the top of the meter high wall, turning back to look at his father once more.

"What took you so long, kid?"

Raoul's impassive voice spoke from the shadows before joining Trunks atop the wall,

"Don't call me kid. My name's Trunks"

"Sure slick. Get a move one, there's much you need to learn before sun-up"

The dark headed vampire spun swiftly, his coat tracing the air as he disappeared from sight, into the night. Trunks smiled, hinting hate, scorn and lust as his father stood moments from the doorway arms tight across his chest, glaring, watching the dark stranger leave. His once best friend appearing beside the saiyan, worry crossing his face.

"I'll see you soon"

Trunks whispered, raised his eyebrows in farewell and silently followed his new partner.

* * * * * * * * * *

"What just happened?" 

Goten stared confused in the direction Trunks had disappeared, brow furrowed. 

"That wasn't Trunks was it? I couldn't sense his energy"

Taking a step forward, Vegeta was firmly tempted to follow the pair into the city, even knowing he would only be able to follow them for a short distance. Yet he decided against it, he would not be lowered to running after his opponents. Either they show themselves to him or they are cowards and not worth his time.

"Hnn…It was Trunks," Vegeta replied in soft anger.

"But…" A strong glare from Vegeta halted Goten's words before he gathered the courage to speak again,

"Aren't we going after him?"

"If you wish, boy. But I'm not going anywhere"

"He's your son!" Goten's sudden angered voice echoed through the air, dancing through the trees.

Vegeta turned about, facing the teen who stood his own height, soon he would be standing above him. Typically Kakarott's child, the dark haired man could see a bright spark in his eyes despite the covering worry.

"That he is and as such he can take care of himself" He pushed himself past the teen, moving quickly back into the building whilst leaving a confused Goten behind,

"Trunks, what has happened to you?" Goten whispered into the night, "I promise to help you my friend, I promise"

* * * * * * * * * *

"Where are we going?"

Trunk's kept pace next to Raoul as they walked swiftly along the back streets of West City towards the south side. 

"Have patience"

Letting out a deep sigh, Trunks tried to accept the answer and began to stroke his teeth with his right index finger, pleased that he had been able to hide them from his natural family. His new friend spoke again when they turned off the main road,

"Tell me, what caused you to cut your arm? Not that I disapprove"

"What?" Trunks' hand moved to the painless slice upon his left arm, "Oh…They thought I was an android of all things. I had to give them proof I wasn't. How'd you know I was the one to cut, anyway?"

"Your young kid but even so, human's shouldn't get so close"

"They're not entirely human"

"Close enough…here we are"

The pair stopped before the entrance to a tattered bar, the neon sign flickering, an aged crack trailing up the building. 

"A bar? I could use a drink"

"Listen" Raoul spoke seriously ignoring Trunks' words, "We align ourselves with Bahri, any respectable vampire does yet there are those who do not. Weaklings, traitors, mercenaries. They are not to be trusted and since it is immoral to kill our own kind, without sufficient reason, they survive only by avoiding…"

"Immoral?!" Trunks almost laughed but settled with a wide grin, equal in scale to that of Goten, "The damned, we have morals?"

"If you can call them morals, come" Raoul's blank face did not waver in sight of the teen's smile and he pushed open the heavy door easily. The smell that hit them filled with blood, sweat and alcohol. They made their way in, eyes drifting in their direction momentarily before dismissing them.

The bar resounding with loud-mouthed drunks, clinking glass, dull music from a worn jukebox. Raoul took a seat at one end of the bar, waiting for Trunks to sit next to him. He ordered two simple glasses of tequila from the bartender, with no expectation of drinking it. Trunks however swiftly downed the small glass, spending a moment contemplating,

"It tastes different, less satisfying"

"Mmm...We're not here for entertainment"

"What're the drinks for then?"

"Show." Raoul let his eyes sweep the room, "There are two traitors in here, tell me who they are"

A test. Trunks knew this, no matter how much he loathed the idea he couldn't help but swing around on the stool and not inconspicuously search the room, leaning his hands on his knees. Most of the forms in the bar seemed human but there in the back corner, he's paler, thin, his eyes colourless and he has no signature. And…

"Hey cutie," a feathery female voice emanated from besides him, "Haven't seen you here before"

Trunks didn't look to the girl yet new she was a vampire, her energy invisible. He wondered if he was the only one who could sense Ki's. He new his mother couldn't and Videl couldn't. Could vampire's? He shrugged off the thought and swung back to face the bar.

"The guy in the back and her," He pointed with his thumb to the female looking expectantly at him.

"Me?" Trunks felt a hand trace across his chest, "What about me?"

Raoul's eyebrows raised, ignored the girl tracing Trunks' muscles, 

"Some of them aren't very bright, she doesn't even realise what you are."

In one swift movement the older man took up the wooden stool beside him and broke off a part of the leg in his hand, resulting in a short wooden stake.

"Hey! Watch the furniture!" The barman glared not too menacingly at Raoul, who shrugged and dropped the stool, handing Trunks the wooden stake, speaking soundly,

"Lesson one"

Trunks' eyes widened, looking down upon the wood in his hand.

"We have several vulnerabilities, sunlight, the lord's cross and stakes."

"Stakes?"

"A stake through the heart will effectively kill any of us. Give it a try"

"But I thought it was immoral"

"Without sufficient reason…", for the first time a smile tugged at the corners of Raoul's mouth as he gazed upon the girl trying her hardest to reach Trunks' attention. 

"My dear," Trunks turned to face the brunette, an evil grin slipping across his face as he purposely revealed his fangs. The girl gasped softly before leaning in again,

"So, we're the same"

"Perhaps…"

He spun the stake in his hand so the splintered end faced the girl's chest, her expression shocked as Trunks thrust the wood into her flesh. Within her chest he heard the crack of breaking ribs as the stake moved past vulnerable bones, felt the convulsion of conflicting muscles. Out of instinct she reached for breath, gasping despite the fact that air was not necessary, she grasped at Trunk's shirt pulling him with her as she fell from the stool.

"You…how could…?" The vampire managed to gasp out a few words before a surge of energy sparked through the wood prickling his skin. He pushed up from the floor and sat leaning against the bar, when his hand jerked off the stake from the surprising energy.

Moments later a soft hissing sound radiated from the fallen girl, Trunk's eyes fell to her face. His eyes widened as he watched her skin redden and blister, slowly peeling as if decaying with age in a matter of seconds. Her eyes flickered, the cream suddenly fading to what would most likely be her natural shade of brown.

Almost horrified Trunks attempted to inch backwards only to be stopped by the bar. He jumped up and backed away as alarmed voices made themselves known. The bar's door slamming open as several patrons hastened to leave, whispers and then silence. The only sound known being Raoul's soft chuckles,

"Not entirely graceful, yet I'll give you praise for your first attempt"

The vampire's chuckles increased into a hearty laugh before he himself stood and placed an arm about Trunk's shoulders, leading the stunned teen to the door.

"Stop right there!"

Their eyes spun slowly with their heads to find the barman pointing a rather large shotgun in their direction. The double barrels steady in the brawny man's grip, his voice only slightly shaking as he addressed the pair,

"I don't know who," he glanced down to the decayed body, "or what you are but you're not going anywhere"

Trunk's was snapped from his temporary daze by the barman's heavy voice, and shaking his head he began threatening,

"We're not…"

But he was silenced by a cold hand placed over his mouth, and his partner stepped forward, the gun not fazing him.

"We're just simply family men who needed to rid the world of a threat to our kindred" now standing directly before the barrels he place a hand upon the metal,

"You can understand that can't you?"

The barman shook Raoul's hand from his weapon and tightened his grip, taking a small step back.

"Move away. The police are on their way, don't try anything"

The braided vampire sighed deeply, letting his eyes drop before slowly replacing them on the barman, locking onto the heavy man. The seasoned man had no time to react as the cool metal was torn from his fingers, twisting and found pointing instead towards him moments later. The single shot rang out into the night, piercing the seemingly calm air, Raoul had not hesitated. The barman's blood rained upon the rough selves behind the bar, staining the once clean mirrors. 

"This is what we get for being invisible," Raoul seemed to speak these words simply to himself as if regretting a past decision, a sorrow hidden beneath the dangerous smile, small yet never gentle.

"No respect."


	10. Blood touched lips

Title: Erratum in the Spirit 9/? – Blood touched lips

Warning: Supernatural/Dark themes, violence, alcohol/drug reference

Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I do not own Dragon Ball Z, nor do I own any of the materials from, which the quotes are borrowed. If you do want to sue, I have some half chewed bubble gum but that's about it. You can have it if you want.

" --scene-- " = Change in place, time or perspective

"Speech" 'Thoughts'

-----------Memories-----------

A/N: I'm so sorry for the long period of silence. My brain was flooded with stories, with assignments. It was the terror of starting uni. Lol! Oh, I had to change the memory and scene change symbols since fanfiction.net didn't like my old ones and decided to delete them. Hope it's ok.

Review Responses -

Jdchs: Thankyou so much for the comments about Vegeta. I have been writing little bits and pieces on the side (which aren't going to be put up) to try and get Vegeta's character right. He's a tough one to crack! Here's more!

Erica: Guess what?! I updated! Lol. Hugs for reviewing

----------------------------------------------------------

"How dare you say that my behaviour is unacceptable,

So condescending unnecessarily critical,

I have the tendency of getting very physical,

So watch your step cause if I do you'll need a miracle" Maroon 5 – 'Harder to Breathe'

----------------------------------------------------------

Standing in silence, Vegeta let his eyes wander to the blinking stars, and somehow he wondered why the sky was so clear. Certainly after such events the weather should reflect the condition, wasn't that the way of this world? Wasn't that the way of stories, of fiction? For surely this was just a story, simply a dream.

A chilling breeze, his skin prickling and writhing under its touch suddenly bombarded him. His arms inched their way to his chest, moving into a tight fold, a hidden comfort, he would never reveal his weakness. Never…

----------- When Vegeta returned to the lounge, his eyes sat resolved, hardened. It seemed his decision was made, a challenge had been made. Yet not the usual enemy. His son. He had claimed a new enemy had arrived, that he was at this creature's every whim. Any being, which enslaves a mind is a creature!

Visions flashed through his mind causing his eyes to pierce close. Memories he would rather be rid of, despite the fact they made him harder.

Those screams.

Lack of control.

Fire.

Fire in his mind, searing him with his every contest.

Can't stop it!

Screams.

"Vegeta!"

Suddenly he realised where he was, Bulma's voice, which was once softly controlling now held no sign of the gentle command he fell for. He knew that sound atop her voice, seething anger upon which she had no control. A mother's fear. Looking up, his customary mask of indifference fell into place, muscles forcefully relaxing as he turned his gaze to the ocean haired woman.

"How can you just stand there like that? _Our_ son is obviously sick, yet still you allow him to wander aimlessly into the night!" Her voice shaking in it's ending words.

Bulma had made her way subconsciously across the room, hands white-knuckled upon her hips. He had never seen her so impulsive and out of control. She had always been one to take control of a situation, always been the first to reach a type of control needed to think things through, perhaps not on the battle field yet certainly over these past years. They had endured many dangers, and Kakarott's wife had always been the one to lose her emotions, tears always welling in her eyes, hair leaping with exertion. And except that dulled fear, emotions effortlessly withdrawn, Bulma had never seemed to lose control.

Her anger made its way to pierce his mask,

"I will not chase after the boy as if a shepherd. If he doesn't wish to return, so be it"

Vegeta made to turn, after taking up the discarded towel still damp from his workout, when a delicate hand latched onto his shoulder and turned him slowly. The world seemed to fade, the moment paused simply for the two.

"Vegeta," Bulma's voice softened, almost pleading "He's your son and he's hurting…"

He couldn't help but let out a long breath, loosening his form as he looked in her eyes,

"Please, just forget your pride…"

Tense once more, swiftly, frighteningly sudden his face taken aback and the world was as it was. He could sense Goten hesitate in the doorway behind him, Bra confused nearby.

"Forget my pride?" His voice dangerously soft, almost a whisper.

"You saw as I saw, Trunks was not himself. Perhaps it is merely…"

Jerking from her touch he glared down upon her, her brow furrowing. He renewed his grip on the towel,

"A saiyan is firstly and foremost one of pride. And as my son, Trunks…" his deep and serious tone was interrupted by Bulma's raised voice,

"Damn your pride! What good has it done but seen you killed!"

Memories of that fateful day in which the battle against Buu seemed utterly hopeless, flashed through his mind. He had truly believed that the explosion would rid the world of that monster, how was he to know it would simply see his soul torn.

"Do you think killing myself was an easy decision? I did it to see you safe"

"Oh, really? And all the good that did. Your crazy blast didn't affect the thing, did you ever stop to think? We were left alone, could've been killed. But no you didn't think about that, just your pride speaking, telling you that you would be honored by saving the world!" Caught up in the anger surging inside her Bulma was too late to stop the following words "I believe that it is safe to say that that was the most heartless decision you have ever made"

As the sentence left her mouth a deep silence lingered through the air as the implications of what she had said were searched by all present. All close to the prince knew that that one act of self-destruction had been the hardest thing the Saiyan prince had every performed. He knew that he would simply disappear, not being aloud a body, a single lost spirit. But he had continued anyway believing his family would be safe. He had revealed his hidden emotions, embraced his son. That moment, which he believed was his single selfless act was the most precious and everyone knew this.

To have this thought truth wrenched from his grip was like having the floor pulled from beneath him. For long moments he stood staring blankly into his wife's eyes, not seeing her but moving over the words. When Bulma made to move forward, tried to add comfort, Vegeta shook his head, fire burning through his eyes. His right arm twitched moving slightly to strike the women before him, and with the realisation of what he intended to do he forced himself to close his eyes, blocking her from his vision. Held that fury back and spoke in a bland tone,

"If that's what you believe…"

But he couldn't finish, his voice unwilling to remain steady. He spun and walked from the room, Goten moving quickly from his path, concern covering the boy's face.-----------

Having no where in particular to go, the prince let his feet take him, weave him through the capsule corp. gardens as he watched the sky. His breath heaved unsteadily with the night's memories, of what he had tried to do, what he was about to do.

Revealing his hand he clenched his fist, releasing several times. Each time he pulled in his fingers, he urged them tighter, each time threatening to break through into the skin.

--scene--

Trunks' eyebrows raised in curiosity as a smirk slid across Raoul's face, he leant back against the stone wall. Blue and red lights danced over his features, his eyes sparkled, reflected the delight quickly spreading across his face. The older man let his eyes wander over to the bar just two buildings down the street, he watched as crowds muttered and camera lights flashed.

"What's so amusing?" Trunks asked as he lowered his gaze and memories flashed through his head,

-----------"This is what we get for being invisible" Raoul seemed to speak these words simply to himself as if regretting a past decision, a sorrow hidden beneath the dangerous smile, small yet never gentle,

"No respect"

A dark coat suddenly road the wind as Raoul spun and seemed to disappear, the front door slamming back, glass spraying the air. Trunks looked around quickly, his eyes stopped on the burnt form at his feet causing him to turn away in disgust. His eyes moved over the bar and on instinct he leant over the bench only to find an overweight body sprawled limp on the floor, a large gaping wound bleeding from his chest.

Surprisingly, Trunks didn't react to the sight. He took in the red liquid, which had sprayed the surrounding bottles, until he spotted what he was looking for. He reached over the bench and brought out a tall bottle of tequila, blood stained on its neck. Why did it seem to bring relief? Did it ever bring relief? The label was vague in his mind, black with a golden beast making itself clear, but he paid it no heed. It was blurred in his vision, he could feel his body crying, pleading. Hungry.

He turned around to find shaken faces, locked onto his form, some shaking, tears finding themselves born in several eyes. Making no move to acknowledge them he opened the bottle and leant back against the bar. He glanced once more down at the bottle before tipping it backwards.

His tongue washed over the glass, taking in the warm blood, smearing the drops. As the alcohol mixed with the life bringing liquid, it brought a slight tinge of ecstasy and the young vampire closed his eyes.

"What are you doing?" Raoul's annoyed voice was loud in his ear but Trunks left his eyes closed as he answered,

"Drinking. Where'd you go?"

"Cleaning up our mess" the bottle was ripped from Trunks' lips, and he glared as the bottle was broken against a nearby wall, "We're invisible remember"

Trunks looked up to the other, his eyes caught the blood staining his teeth, dripping down over his lip and onto his chin.-----------

"Don't tell me you didn't find that amusing", Raoul's accent was suddenly aware to Trunks' ears. A delicious French accent usually hidden under West Cities own was brought forth by the enjoyment in the man's voice. How could he have missed it? Everything was becoming clearer, his head clearing a little more every hour, his senses strengthening with every moment. His headaches had faded, his tired eyes unknown and for the first time he could take in the finer details of the man he had named partner under duress.

"You don't find them amusing?" the older waved a hand towards the police, the many stretchers, body bags. The shouts and desperation,

'Come on move it! Out of the way!'

The once saiyan swung his head away involuntarily, something tearing at his almost faded heart,

"You…we didn't have to kill them"

"Don't start that again kid, those dismal thoughts, that humanity" turning, Raoul started away from the busy scene, "You are what you are"

Shaking his head, Trunks wondered where that thought came from. The last of his humanity had died with Tenshi, when he had drained his classmate's essence. He turned his head back to the crowd, and it was now that a white van pulled up, the title of a news station plastered on its side.

"Come on kid" Raoul called back as he paced away.

But Trunks couldn't move away, his attention drawn to the media. A woman, short blonde hair, dressy maroon suit, so familiar…

"Officer! Officer, just a moment please!"

It was strangely desperate, he could taste her need. He shivered at the feeling. Her voice gentle and pleading,

"Sir, a statement?" the police she had directed the question to ignored her totally, typical, "What has happened, Sir?!"

Erasa. Her name leapt into his mind just like that old man's blood had taken to his lips.

'_That could be him there_'

His eyes wandered to the newest body being pushed out on a stretcher, face covered. It was such a relief to have new life flowing throw his system, its flavour still fresh on his lips. He could remember the man's eyes as he shoved him back into his chair before hauling the wrinkled flesh into the air. Those eyes pleaded with him, silently cried out, as the rusty voice begged. The ancient man's neck was dry, the skin peeling, sticking to his lips as Trunks drank.

"Trunks?!"

For a moment he thought it was Raoul, annoyed and calling him. Why did he trust the man, after such a short time? But that tone was surprised, higher…female.

"Trunks Brief" the reporter bounced over as he was brought from his thoughts, the cameraman close behind, "How long has it been?"

'_Months. And that's not long enough_'

He remembered a New Year's barbecue, Gohan had brought along some long time friends. The blond had insisted on 'getting the goss'. She had stuck to him, question pouring from her mouth, as if she were his new best friend. Gohan had said to ignore her, she had then hit him playfully. Frowning he gazed down at the reporter.

"What happened?" her face was horrified, as she stared at his form, his chest, his face.

Looking down on himself he groaned when he saw the torn shirt, dried blood smeared across it, his dark pants in no better state.

"Were you in that bar? You should go to the hospital"

Slumping, all thoughts of the bar drifted from his mind,

"I should get some new clothes. Wouldn't want Bahri to see me like this", at that he turned and made his way after Raoul.

"Trunks, wait!" Erasa took hold of the teen's arm, she gasped at its icy touch.

"Let go", his voice was frighteningly calm, cold. Trunks tore his arm from her grip, his eyes, she noticed were pale, as they glared onto her. She couldn't help but let him go. Silently watching as he disappeared down a nearby alleyway. Unaware that the camera man was recording every second.

--scene--

Breathing deep, Bulma let her face be held in her hands. She could feel the tears running down her arms, warming her chilled skin. A small pair of arms latched onto her, embracing her as best they could.

"Mother?"

But the girl's voice went unheard, Bulma let her silent tears fall. What had happened to them? Trunks. What was happening to her son? The picture of a suffering boy cutting himself, a strange delight in his features. That anger when he pushed past her, yelled at her. She had to do something, Vegeta wouldn't.

"Mum?"

Turning her head she saw the worried face of her youngest, her hair mirroring her own.

"Its ok Bra",

"What's wrong with Trunks?"

Bulma draped her arms around the girl and looked into her eyes,

"He's just ill, he'll be fine"

A smile found Bra's lips but despite her young age the grin did not find her eyes. She tightened her grip and all but fell into her mother's arms.

"I'm afraid" the girl's voice was muffled in her mother's jumper, "There's something wrong with his eyes"

Vegeta stopped outside the door to the lounge, overhearing his family's conversation. He kept a stone face, as quiet as possible. His exterior hard, his mind strong, a contrast to his heart, which faltered at the sound of the girl's sobs.

"It'll be alright" he listened as Bulma's words of comfort were drowned out by the sudden jingle which indicated a news update. As soon as he heard the word 'massacre' he was in the room, taking in the information, storing it away, wide-eyed...

A/N: Reviews are most welcome!


	11. Such life is misery

Title: Erratum in the Spirit 10? – Such life is misery

Authors Note: Well, it's been quite a while since I've posted anything here at and I must say truthfully that I have not concentrated on writing for myself in many a month. But the other day I was listening to the recording of a tarot reading I had done and somehow it brought me back, made me remember what made me happy. And so here is another chapter, I had fun writing it… I hope someone enjoys it as much as I did.

Quote: "Part of every misery is, so to speak, the misery's shadow or reflection: the fact that you don't merely suffer but have to keep on thinking about the fact that you suffer. I not only live each endless day in grief, but live each day thinking about living each day in grief." – C.S. Lewis

…_Memories_…

* * *

**Second day**

**Location: South-East West City**

**Time: Dawn Sunday**

Trunks trailed behind Raoul. Head dropped; he kept playing the murders repeatedly through his mind. Behind them sirens screeched yet reached their ears dulled, bouncing through the alleyways. He'd never killed before. Now the blood of a drunk, a grandmother, an auburn haired child who could never be of legal age as well as countless others stained his shirt. He couldn't look away from the drying stain as he concentrated on the sound of Raoul's footsteps.

"I enjoyed it" Trunks said to no one in particular, "Why?"

"Everything needs sustenance. That stain on your shirt is sustenance"

"This isn't normal"

Trunks wiped at the blood, red smudges appearing on his hands. He smelt it and sucked his hand clean. The taste was still euphoric. It filled his every corner now and he finally felt satisfied. He felt comfortable for the first time since it happened.

Had it only been 24 hours. It seemed to last for days.

"I can't kill again" Trunks said

"What, in Lord's name, are you talking about?" Raoul looked back, eyebrow raised.

"I can still hear them screaming, Raoul. I heard them call for help but I didn't save them. Killing them was weak, they were weak. A Saiya-jin never…"

Without notice a blow to the young vampire's stomach sent him crashing back into a gathering of trash. Trunks looked up and saw Raoul glaring down at him. His new teacher was rubbing his right fist.

"Lets get one thing straight" Raoul said, "I don't trust Saiya-jins. Meddling aliens is all they are"

"Earth wouldn't be here if…"

"Shut it! It is Master's order to train you and that's just what I'll do. But that doesn't mean I have to trust you" He knelt to whisper, "One wrong move and…" Raoul bared his fangs and the blood on his breath brushed at Trunks' bangs.

Raoul paused over Trunks for several moments, studying his face fiercely before walking off.

"_How was your night, young one?_" A seductively familiar voice suddenly sounded in Trunks' ears.

He pushed himself into a sitting position and looked around for the Lord. A rat ran across the alley but he couldn't find Lord Bahri.

"Where are you?" Trunks said

"_Waiting for you_"

"Right in front of you" Raoul said, his eyes revealing a question of Trunks sanity, "Come on, the sun's coming"

Trunks shook his head and quickened his pace to catch up with Raoul. His, supposed new teacher would take him to the Lord. Everything would be fine once he was with him again.

* * *

The sun was touching the horizon when they reached the doorway minutes later. Raoul took a gold chain from his neck. Two keys were on the chain. One of these Raoul used to lock the door behind them.

Just as the lock clicked shut someone starting pounding on the heavy, iron door. Raoul leant back against the door and crossed his arms,

"Who is it?"

"Let me in!" A desperate voice screamed

"Now why should I do that? You know the rules"

"Please, the sun…"

"Doors locked. Too late"

Raoul's voice was almost comical and a grin appeared as the man on the other side of the door cried out. The scream made Trunks recoil, it began to bubble as it faded and a clattering of bones sounded.

"Come follow me" Raoul said and dropped the keys back around his neck.

Walking down the dark stairway, Trunks started to recognize his surroundings. The dark smudges on the wall, the pipes and a certain T-shaped connection he recognized from the night before. It was where Raoul had protected him.

Trunks stopped and looked up at Raoul's face, he still felt shaken from his teacher's threat. A chill caused him to shiver when Raoul smirked down at the smaller vampire.

"Master's waiting for you, little bat"

"Bat?"

"Untrustworthy and blind"

A hand took hold of his arm, near the shoulder and led him down the corridor, stopping in front of Bahri's double doors.

"Open" Bahri called without notice, as if the Undead Master simply knew they were standing there.

The doors opened inward seemingly on their own. Raoul led Trunks in. Two boys held the doors open; they looked to be only 5 years old. The once Saiya-jin raised an eyebrow at one of the children who revealed a pair of fangs while he sucked at his lower lip.

"Do you like them?" Bahri asked, "They can be quite useful. You wouldn't know how sentimental humans can be"

They closed the doors jaggedly behind him and Trunks didn't say a word. The navy blue ties around their necks hung loosely, their whites shirts crumpled. A slice in the pants of the boy on the left, who was biting his lip revealed a dried scab across his knee. Noticing Trunks' eyes on him, he cringed, hissed and backed away. Trunks spun around to the Lord. Bahri sat on the stone throne, the leather clad red head that had distracted Goten the evening before clung to his leg.

"As you can see, my child, they can be quite useful" Barhi said. He waved the red head away, she crawled back along the floor, "They're so innocent and unobstructed. The little minds hold no preconceptions, no reason to believe beyond a doubt that we vampires are simply…"

The lord's fluttering coat was all the notice Trunks had before his Master disappeared,

"…fairy tale monsters" Bahri whispered from behind him.

"Why is he afraid of me?" Trunks asked still watching the empty throne.

"Basic instincts. They are particularly strong in ones so young. They sense you're different, the Saiya-jin light in you"

Bahri brushed the hair back from Trunks neck and smelt his skin. Trunks shivered but couldn't pull away.

"You smell of Saiya-jins!"

Bahri drew back in a short hiss,

"The young ones were right. That Saiya-jin light is still free within you"

The Lord's voice radiated with disgust and he moved to stand before Raoul. The Lord stood several inches shorter then his trusted child and despite this apparent advantage Raoul cringed in fear.

"The boy still has heart, he feels guilty. It's all over him" Bahri said.

Raoul bowed his head, looking at Trunks from the corner of his eye. Everything seemed to stand still, tension stung the air and the faint sounds of dripping water echoed through the hall. Two figures faced each other, virtually father and son, head bowed the son drew back from the berating he was about to receive.

"How will the prophecy be fulfilled if I have such daft Sons?" Bahri asked, "I trusted you with my youngest, the chosen one and humanity still whispers within his heart."

"We just need more time. He's not like everyone else, he was Saiya-jin. It was a mistake trying to change him, Master." A silent gasp in astonishment of the vampire's matter of fact tone, the definite defiance against his Master, shuddered about the room. Raoul hesitated before continuing carefully, "Perhaps Master, the Saiya-jin light is simply fighting your control"

Raoul didn't go as far as to suggest that his Master wasn't strong enough to change the Saiya-jin light but winced and trailed his eyes back to Bahri. A chill ripple coursed through the room, Trunks saw one of the boys hunch down to the floor, hugging his knees. A growl emanated from within the Lord's chest, the sound vibrating telepathically through Trunks mind and from the look on the other vampire's faces, it struck in theirs as well.

"_You dare speak doubts over my abilities. Second guessing my judgment_" Lord Bahri's voice was held restrained yet radiated fear through all his children's minds, "_Let this be an example, and be it known that no one questions me!_"

A sudden soft cry came from Raoul's lips causing Trunks to twist his torso, facing his new teacher. Strands of Raoul's braided hair came loose, dancing through the air. His dark coat started whipping about his legs as the floor shuddered. The boys screamed and crawled to the shadows as the Lord hands rose before him. Trunks couldn't help but jump away and cover his face as bright red lights appeared about Raoul's body.

"Master…" Raoul's plea came on deaf ears as Bahri crossed his outstretched arms.

Raoul's face held silent and shuddered under the strain of control. Yet in minutes his scream came strong and sudden, piercing through the stone walls of the hidden lair. Trunks watched behind his shielding arms as the lights were concentrated into crosses of the Church, scattered across his teacher's body. Skin upon his cheek bubbled and smoked, bone appearing under melted flesh.

The Lord finally stopped once Raoul's body dropped to his knees, hands pushed against the floor before him, holding himself up.

"I do this merely out of love, my child," Bahri said as he lowered down to Raoul, "The prophecy predicts our demise at the hands of Saiya-jins and we will defeat these aliens. We will turn them against themselves"

At this the Lord brushed his lengthy nails across Raoul's forehead and turned to Trunks, who now stood several steps away, watching his teacher in worry.

"It should be expected though, shouldn't it my child?" Bahri asked in a tone that refused an answer, "Saiya-jins have never been turned before. You must be relieved to be rid of that horrid light."

"I…," Trunks stopped, remembering Raoul "Please don't take it out on my teacher, Master. He has berated me for my guilt. He's tried to teach me. I will try harder, Master"

The shadow hidden Vampire Lord didn't move, his face unseen. Trunks crossed his fingers behind his back, if he pretended maybe he could return to his original form. Though on the most part, his mind held a strong loyalty to Lord Bahri that he didn't understand, he still felt his Saiya-jin half battling for control. His ambitions confused his battling mind, for a Saiya-jin lusted for power and his new form lived in power. Yet a Saiya-jin's main drive is to uphold his own pride, his families honor.

"Merely you will try?" Bahri said, "You accept my child as your teacher, yet do not accept me as your father"

The Z fighters were his family weren't they? Vegita, the Saiya-jin Prince was his father. He felt a cold hand caress his cheek, soft and loving; Bahri's glowing eyes pierced his own.

"Did they come to your aid, my son? You were in pain. Vegita, Bulma, even the kind-hearted Goku, they all wish that your future self was here instead of you. They don't believe or trust in you, haven't even come looking for you" Bahri said, the sound of harsh truth hit Trunks, "Our family is forever, I protect all my worthy children. Unlike Vegita, who didn't try and protect you from me"

Muscles tightened in Trunk's fists, his face contorting in anger. Bahri was correct. His father had not listened to him, told him he was weak, that he wasn't training enough. Said that losing to Goten was evidence that he didn't take pride in his heritage.

He would show his father that he was honor, show them all, that he was stronger then that imbecile from the future.

"What is it you want me to do…Father?" Trunks produced, his mind finally overcome by the undead strength, his Saiya-jin light twisting and contorting into hard smoke.

* * *

**Location: Lookout**

**Time: 6am Sunday**

There had always been deaths and murders on Earth. A guardian could sense each of them if he so wished. Even consult the spirit in the brief moment it held to earth so he could find out how it died. Dende had managed to block most of them out but one important life sign had faded. No matter where he searched from earth to King Yama there was no sign of Trunks' soul.

Dende sat with his legs twisted beneath him several strides from the lookouts edge and sheer drop. A single tear fell to the marble floor, a result of meditation, of discovering the growing dark in West City. It had never been so strong. The creatures had successfully hidden themselves from previous guardian's searches.

Piccolo had never told him about these creatures and he didn't sense an alien ship. Perhaps they are aliens and he missed them.

Dende sighed and let his hands drop from his knees,

"What have I missed?"

"You are troubled, Dende" Piccolo's gruff voice said from behind him.

"Oh dear! Please don't do that"

The petite guardian held his chest as his surprise faded. He pushed himself to his feet so he could better see the clouds below.

"Can't you feel them, Piccolo?" Dende asked

"Feel who?" Piccolo questioned, looking down at the smaller alien.

"The absences, life forms almost like black holes. I'd always ignored them, didn't even take the time to realize they're there. I found them when I was looking for Trunks."

Piccolo looked surprised at the knowledge in the last remark.

"Didn't you know Trunks' missing? Goten came to me yesterday, said Bulma was distraught, if that's possible. Can you imagine? A Bulma tearing at her hair just like Chi-chi. Maybe they've been friends too long, they're rubbing off on each other." Dende said distractedly.

He started to walk back to the buildings atop the lookout, mumbling to himself. Extremely troubled.

"Dende. What happened?" Piccolo asked sternly.

"Oh sorry, Trunks disappeared early yesterday it seems. I've been meditating, trying to find his power signal. Even going to snake way, there's no sign of him. But do you know what I found instead? Massacres. A number of them across West City, and all surrounded by absences"

"Hnn…" Piccolo glanced thoughtfully at the passing clouds.

"They're little black holes," Dende repeated, "pulling in the power from all around them. It's like they don't have a power source of their own. Do you know of these creatures? Are they aliens? No, I'm sure you'd tell me if you knew. Clever creatures though, they have the potential to be, Grand Kai forgive, stronger then Goku. And their eyes, such eyes."

Piccolo stopped and grabbed the guardian's shoulder, spinning him about to face him. He said nothing but looked down at Dende with stern eyes.

"I couldn't stay up here, Piccolo. How's a Guardian supposed to standby and watch when his charges are dying?" Dende said, then recalled in clarity his lone trip to earth the night before, his voice trying to remain calm…

_Dende's quickening pace back and forth was worrying Po-po, the small man held a brown robe in his arms trying in vain to get his friend to halt his steps. Pacing for several hours can wear a guy out, and an alien is no exception but the sweat on Dende's forehead was not that of exhaustion but of agony. _

"_No!" Dende gasped as his outstretched mind felt another spirit depart in agony to Snake way. He stopped still, his eyes staring off into the stars yet not seeing their glitter._

"_Where's Piccolo?" Dende asked in desperation._

"_He will not return from Namek until the sun is rising, Dende" Po-po said, holding kindness in his voice despite having repeated this same answer throughout the night, ever since Goten had delivered the bad news._

_Interfering with human death could warp the delicate balance of Earth's nature and so the green Guardian had come to terms with restraining his healing abilities. He didn't want to throw everything out of whack now did he?_

"_My coat Po-po," Dende ordered, "It's about time I stepped in"_

_Po-po's look of worry didn't fade as Dende employed his newly learnt technique to instantly transport himself to the scene of an arising massacre. From the street below a scream was cut short before it could reach its height, Dende peered down to the street from atop a 3-storey brick building. The flickering lights of a pub across the street illuminated several bodies hunched on the street corner, the street lights shattered a time before._

"_Trunks?" Dende whispered when he spied through the door a lilac-silver head hunched over the bar. He looked back to the street corner._

_Dende's eyes widened as he realized that one figure hunched over the others, behind its dark coat hiding his true figure. A gasp must have accompanied wide eyes for the hunched body twisted its head and looked directly up to Dende. The Guardian was stunned and frozen by the eyes, his senses detecting no power in the form._

_Before Dende could react in anyway the figure dashed across the street and scaled the building wall in several thrusts as if he were a primate. Yet Dende could not move, frozen to his eyes. Engulfing the smaller figure with its coat, a man's voice resonated directly behind him. He could feel a cool form pressed against him, one arm on his chest the other firm on his neck. He was frozen and in the dark._

"_Who have we here?" The man said. He ran nails across the young Guardian's neck, keeping a firm hold, "Master has told me of you, Earth's Guardian"_

_Stunned at the man knowing his identity, Dende slowly took hold of himself, he jerked helplessly in tough arms._

"_I wonder what you taste like little one," Hands tilted his head to the side, the man's breath washed over his neck, revealing bloodstained fangs, "Master cannot afford your meddling"_

_As fangs touched his skin, Dende was shaken from his daze and shoved his elbows back into the man's groin with no effect. Panicking he concentrated on transporting only himself despite the vampires hold on him, the next moment he collapsed on the lookout's stone tiles. _

* * *

**Location: Beneath West City**

**Time: 6am Sunday**

The vampire didn't even wince as his student washed his open face wound with cheap alcohol, broken skin falling and clearing in hopes that the day would see the flesh rebuild itself as Trunks' had. Now alone in a small room not too far from the Lord's hall, Trunks sat on the edge of a molding mattress looking down on Raoul. The steel frame squeaked every time one of them shifted.

Neither one of them had spoken a word since Trunks had helped Raoul walk from the hall. The elder one had been touched deeply by the image burnt onto his skin, his cheek blackened. From his time spent here, Trunks found that Raoul was feared most under that of Lord Bahri, with vampires looking away in his presence, others challenging his abilities to attack the once Saiya-jin. And yet here he lay, silent, hurt by a simple cross.

"Why does the cross burn?" Trunks asked softly, trying to catch his teacher's eyes.

Raoul didn't reply, his face was turned away, studying the brick wall carefully. The alcohol washed out drying blood and pieces of dirt which had found their way into the wounds on his legs and lower torso. The wounds no longer revealed bones, but gaunt muscle, shifting unseen.

"The undead are condemned by God" Raoul finally replied once Trunks had set aside the emptying bottle of liquor.

"But then…" Trunks voice was stopped by a palm placed against his mouth.

"Quiet now, Little Bat. Master has plans for us tomorrow, today was merely to catch attention." Raoul said and closed his eyes, his arms crossed on his chest.

The light haired vampire slipped down onto the floor, leaning against the wall and bed head. No sound came from atop the rusting bed, but Trunks felt blood moving in both of their bodies, working to restore them for another night.

"Teacher?" Trunks whispered.

"Hnn?" Raoul grunted in question.

"You were right. I was blind"

"I know"

Trunks smiled as he fell into unconsciousness. Raoul's last words echoed through and haunted his dreamless sleep.

"I still don't trust you"


End file.
